Wind River Wrangler (Wind River Valley #1)(81)



Gasping, Shiloh cried brokenly, “No! No! That can’t be! They’d have told me! They were supposed to call me when they were going to release him!”

Sarah stood and went over to a file drawer and opened it. She pulled out a small towel and walked over, handing it to her so she could wipe the coffee off herself. “I’m sorry, but it appears from what I can see, you were not notified, Shiloh. I’m sorry.”

Tears burned hotly in her eyes and, blindly, Shiloh used the towel to dry herself off. Roan led her back to the chair, asking her to sit down. She barely heard him. Barely heard anything, a buzzing going on inside her head, her mind spinning and making connections. She sat and pressed her hands against her tear-splattered face, trying to get a hold of her wild, panicked emotions.

Roan sat down, sliding his arm around her shoulders. “Try to take some deep breaths, Shiloh. It will help settle the adrenaline surging through you.”

Roan’s low, quiet voice cut through her anxiety and terror. She felt the warm strength of his hand gently smoothing the fabric of her blouse against her hunched, tensed shoulders. Closing her eyes, hands gripped in her lap, she did as he asked, listening to him, his voice melting away a little of her terror. Finally, Shiloh lifted her head. She rubbed the tears from her cheeks and looked at Sarah.

“He’s my stalker, then.” The words came out hard and flat. Filled with palpable dread.

Sarah nodded. “Could well be. Hold on . . . let me get to his probation officer’s record on Leath’s whereabouts. . . .” she said, and she typed in some commands.

Shiloh looked over at Roan, so glad his hand remained on her shoulders. She saw he was upset, worried for her. Giving him a misery-laden look, she whispered, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose it.”

Roan shook his head. “It’s okay, Shiloh. Did you burn yourself?” he asked, and he slid his hand beneath her tense fingers.

She looked down, her skin reddened here and there where the coffee had splashed upon her. “N-no, I’m okay. It stings a little is all. It’s nothing. I’ll be all right. . . .” But she felt so far from all right, she wanted to run. Shiloh wanted to run directly into Roan’s arms. She saw the glint in the recesses of his eyes, the hardness and determination and protection he wanted to give her. “God,” she whispered, “I don’t dare go back to Manhattan! That’s his hometown, too.”

Sarah looked over at them. “Okay, here’s something that’s probably going to prove that Leath is here in Wyoming, right now.” She tapped the screen with her index finger. “His probation officer has noted that in the last month, Leath has failed to show up for three of his weekly sessions.”

“That’s got to be a violation,” Roan growled.

“Yes, it is. They have a warrant out for his arrest,” Sarah added. She held up her hand. “Hold on while I try to get his probation officer on the phone. Maybe he can give me more intel.”

Shiloh felt as if the world had just collapsed in on her. Anton Leath was after her. She licked her lower lip and whispered unsteadily to Roan, “He promised to come after me.”

Roan scowled. “What do you mean?”

“I was sitting behind him in the courtroom and after the jury sentenced him, he turned around and said when he got out, he’d come after me and finish it off.” She saw Roan’s eyes become shards of ice.

“You need to tell that to Sarah,” he murmured, rubbing her shoulders gently.

“I will. . . .” she said, and she sniffed, feeling tears burning in her eyes again. Valiantly, Shiloh fought them away.

“You’re upset,” Roan said, giving her a small smile of encouragement, holding her shattered gaze. “There’s no way you’re going to remember everything the first time around. I’m sure Sarah will be asking you more questions as soon as she gets off the phone. Okay?”

Just his reassurance gave Shiloh purchase. “Y-yes.” Her gaze went to Sarah as she made connection with the probation officer. She sat quietly, listening to Sarah’s end of the conversation. When Sarah asked the officer to send her photos and the file on Leath, Shiloh started feeling a little relief. Sarah believed her. The sheriff’s department would help her.

Sarah hung up the phone, her face grim. She held Shiloh’s broken gaze. “You heard what I asked for. What we’ll do is distribute Leath’s photo to every deputy here in Lincoln County, as well as other law enforcement agencies in the surrounding counties, including the state of Idaho, which is less than fifty miles away from Jackson Hole.” She frowned and rustled her slender fingers through a pile of papers, studying a schedule. “And I’m assigning a detective to this investigation, Shiloh. He will go undercover. I’m going to instruct him to be nosing around Wind River, and several other smaller towns along Highway 89 that run through the center of the valley. Our man will be dressed as a tourist so Leath won’t be able to spot him that easily. I’ll get this detective, who is coming on for the next shift, and give him the intel and his orders.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Shiloh whispered. She grimaced. “Sarah? Why didn’t the New York City police find this out? Why didn’t they check to see if Leath was already released?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes departments get overwhelmed and steps are missed or thought to be low importance at the station. I’m sure when you told the police and the detective that Leath was in federal prison, they didn’t bother to check your statement. They should have, but they didn’t.” She opened her hands. “They’re human too, Shiloh. It doesn’t excuse this mistake, however.”

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